


名前のない青 - The Nameless Blue (TsukkiYama)

by Riken



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riken/pseuds/Riken
Summary: The two spend the summer together doing mundane things. But mundane things are the best things that have happened to Yamaguchi and Tsukishima.(a.k.a. The entire summer they spend trying to sort out their emotions)*character tags will be updated as the chapters go.Based on the song 名前のない青 by  神様、僕は気づいてしまった
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	1. Record 1: Ocean Man, Take Me by the Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally supposed to be a oneshot. It's also my first HQ fic! Please go easy on me LOL - I don't write much romance either but...slow burn...my fuel...

SUMMERS WERE ALWAYS HORRENDOUSLY HOT, but this time around, it was _sweltering._ The air was thick with the humidity, allowing heat to push through every crevice it could. The shadows cast by the trees were the only solace from the sun outdoors--for anyone who was insane enough to lounge outside. Unfortunately, Yamaguchi was one of those who were insane.

He had tied his hair up in a small ponytail to help with the heat, but even with the fan running in a crackling purr, perspiration had already begun to slide down his cheek and gather at the tip of his chin. It had only been ten minutes since he had exited his house and waited at the convenience store for Tsukishima, and he was already a mess.

“He’s _late_ ,” Yamaguchi mused, and almost as if on cue, another voice responded to his thoughts.

“Am I, though?” 

Tsukishima’s drawl made the viridescent haired boy spin around on the plastic seat. Yamaguchi actually jolted upwards and in the motion sent the chair careening to the side with a clatter. He noticed, with a hint of relief, that Tsukishima too was perspiring an awful amount in the heat. His hair was plastered against his ears, sticking out at various angles, and his glasses reflected the bright sunlight glaringly. Tsukishima then held up his phone, showing the time. “I’m on time. You were just early.”

“Ah, let’s go then,” Yamaguchi dismissed, pink tinting his cheeks at the facts Tsukishima had pointed out. “Do you want to get anything before we leave?”

“Let’s get lunch,” Tsukishima decided. “We’re going to eat while we’re there anyways.”

Yamaguchi savored the chill that gathered in the bottle of water between his hands as Tsukishima finished paying for the food from the convenience store. The condensation on the outside of the bottle dripped between his clasped fingers as he gazed towards Tsukishima, who had finally finished fishing out coins from his wallet for an extra carton of strawberry milk. 

As they exited, the blast of hot air seared their toes again. 

“Why is this summer so hot?” Yamaguchi groaned as they paced along the sidewalk towards the ocean. He dropped his water bottle into his bag, and the loss of the makeshift ice pack allowed for the heat to crawl back onto his hands like a thick blanket. “Last summer it wasn’t as hot…”

“Perfect weather for volleyball,” Tsukishima dryly joked, but then added seriously: “I’m pretty sure it’s at an all time high this week.”

Yamaguchi responded by yawning and wiping his face with the back of his hand. The motion helped him freshen up in a slight amount. “Hopefully the sea breeze is kind to us…”

By the beach, there was a pier of staggered rocks of different jagged cuts, some blunted by the ocean’s waves. Last summer, they had discovered a niche created by rocks toppling over each other in a stubborn position. With the help of napkins, they had cleared out a sizable rock on the inside to sit and relax.

And the ocean breeze gods above had granted Yamaguchi his wish. As they padded along the beach, straying near the water, the wind was a pleasant breeze, blowing away the humidity that clung to their frames. A thin spray of water pervaded his senses, and his tongue tasted like a windswept ocean as he opened his mouth to let out a small yawn again.

“Oi, you’re falling behind,” Tsukishima intoned.

“Ah. Sorry,” Yamaguchi amended, jogging to catch up. His feet flung the water skyward as he finally caught up to Tsukishima’s long strides. “What do you want to talk about today?”

“We don’t need to plan out conversation,” replied the blond haired boy. “Planning out conversation isn’t organic.”

“I’m surprised you said that,” Yamaguchi asserted as they clambered onto the rocks, the sea spray making it slippery. Tsukishima did not answer. The two balanced the bags of food and drinks on their elbows as they went. Finally, Tsukishima picked at a rock, and seemingly satisfied, slipped into the small niche.

When Yamaguchi landed in the small area, Tsukishima had just finished spreading a towel on the rock they usually sat on, already chugging a water bottle at a monstrous speed. As he finished, he crushed the water bottle into a crinkled ball before stashing it back in the bag for temporary storage. “So, how’ve you been, Yamaguchi?”

Yamaguchi settled next to the boy, crunching his shoulders against the rocks. It had only been a handful of weeks since summer break had started, but this was the first time they had met up together since summer began. He wondered if Tsukishima did anything during the summer besides leisure work and homework. Then, he realized he had been silent for too long.

“Mm, uneventful. Summer homework. What about you?” He barely caught himself, and as he cast a glance towards Tsukishima, he realized Tsukishima was staring straight at him. “Sorry, I spaced off.”

“What are you spacing off about?” Tsukishima asked, rather bluntly. His directness threw Yamaguchi off a little. What _was_ he thinking about? Was it anything important?

The green haired boy chewed his bottom lip uneasily. “Uh...just wondering what you did, actually.” The words hung in the air for a second too long before Tsukishima chuckled, easing some worry.

“You can just ask directly, you know, unless you were hiding something,” Tsukishima said, handing Yamaguchi a water bottle. The last part made Yamaguchi flush a little, though he blamed it on the sunlight exposure.

“No, I wasn’t. But seriously, what did you do so far?”

“Mm, homework. Music. Volleyball.” Yamaguchi noticed Tsukishima’s bandaged fingers. Tsukishima again met his gaze as he looked back up. “Oh, by the way, have you solved question four on the math packet yet? _Such_ a pain…”

“It’s actually quite simple if you know the trick, actually,” Yamaguchi said, though it came out quietly, and was drowned under the roar of an incoming wave. They both fell silent as the wave crashed down somewhere nearby, a thin veil of salty mist settling on their arms. Tsukishima picked off his glasses and wiped the droplets off before placing them back on his nose gingerly.

“Tell me about it,” Tsukishima said, and they continued their conversation.

-

Yamaguchi knew that if a person asked him if he liked mundane conversations, his automatic reply would be a ‘no’. But it was more than that--in fact, he liked mundane conversation. Mundane conversation really revealed much about the people speaking: their lifestyle, their attitudes towards things. It was the hidden facets of people that were revealed in the most normal of actions. Everyone wrote. Everyone spoke. But everyone wrote and spoke in their own fashion.

Tsukishima was no exception. In fact, the ‘useless’ conversation between the two had sparked that thought about conversation. Yamaguchi sometimes found it hard to keep up a conversation. However, with Tsukishima, the conversation flowed naturally, like the bend of a crystalline river. If they forced conversation, it would be forced--and that was a mutual agreement. So they both just let the formalities go and talked, time yielding to their words.

That was the first time Yamaguchi realized how close he felt to Tsukishima.

  
  



	2. Record 2: Two Guys, Chilling in the Ocean, Five Feet Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chilling in the ocean quickly turns into some brief existential crisis moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on the same day as chapter one...I need some restraint. If anyone notices, yes, the titles will all be some sort of meme. Also, not all the chapters will be as uh...serious? As this? There's one planned chapter that's basically just character banter, I'm very excited to write about it (hint: chicken strips).

THE NEXT TIME THEY MET at the oceanside was not quite too long from their first escapade into the sanctuary of rocks, but was not immediately after.

“Ocean volleyball,” Tsukishima said, sprawling his legs in a loose pose next to Yamaguchi. They were sitting on the sand underneath the poor shade of a mangled tree, its leaves filtering through small, concentrated beams of light. It dappled their skin in dots of luminescence and sent a scatter of gold through Tsukishima’s irises. Yamaguchi briefly wondered what his irises looked like with the dabbles of sunlight.  _ Probably like celery or something. _

Last time, though they spent most of the time in the shade of the rocks, Yamaguchi still had acquired an unholy amount of sunburns that splattered over his skin in angry red. This time, he had brought bottles and sprays of sunblock. Tsukishima had done the same, so now they were just sitting in a pile of sunblock items listlessly after applying a generous layer to their skin.

Tsukishima slathered a thin layer onto his neck, wincing at the faint sunburns, then continued. “You wanna do ocean volleyball? Just passing back and forth.”

“Setting?”

“If you want,” Tsukishima vaguely replied. “Loser has to treat the other to something.”

“Oi.”

The volleyball Tsukishima brought was worn. Yamaguchi figured it was a volleyball meant for the beach because of the cloth that was fraying at the ends, though his intuition could have been incorrect. It felt foreign in his palms. He didn’t even want to know where Tsukishima got it from.

The water felt soothing against the pale sunlight. They had met up earlier in the morning to avoid the scorching sun of the afternoon, but already sweat clung to Yamaguchi’s fingers. 

“Are we even supposed to be playing volleyball in the water…?” Yamaguchi questioned suddenly, watching as Tsukishima took a number of steps back to create distance between the two.

“Does it matter? We haven’t even started. You can’t worry about problems that aren’t there yet,” the short haired male replied, gesturing with his hands for Yamaguchi to continue. “Besides, the water is nice.”

There were a couple things Yamaguchi instantly realized was a small issue with setting in the water. They were mostly innocuous, so he didn’t point them out.

For example, the restriction of movement. Dragging his feet through water proved to be more difficult than air for obvious reasons. He just had to make sure to set in a straight trajectory.  _ Would Tsukishima do the same? _

Yamaguchi realized they were setting in silence. Tsukishima hadn’t made a snarky comment once in their rounds of setting back and forth. What number were they on? Thirty? Forty? It was hard to decipher or recall, though he knew he hadn’t actively counted, so he shouldn’t have been too hard on himself for being unable to tell which round they were on.

“Are you thinking about something?” Yamaguchi asked abruptly. This time, Tsukishima let the ball sink into his hands and still. He lowered his hands, his elbows folding in the process.

“What is it?”

“ _ Huh _ ?”

“What makes you think I’m spacing out?” Tsukishima said, his fingers curling around the volleyball and scrunching. “You also space out a lot.”

Yamaguchi’s mouth pressed briefly in hurt at Tsukishima’s rough tone, but the flash of embarrassment flew by quickly. Tsukishima was just blunt in his own nature. It was nothing personal. He had to keep reminding himself that. “Ah...nothing.” He wasn’t like Tsukishima. He couldn’t just reply with something along the lines of “ _ oh, you usually make a sarcastic comment at this point, and I noticed you hadn’t.”  _ Nah, the bluntness would be kept for Tsukishima. That was Tsukishima’s job, not his.

“Alright, then,” Tsukishima muttered, raising the volleyball up again. “Wanna go for another couple rounds? Passing this time.”

They had gone through ten complete passes when Tsukishima spoke up again, breaking the silence of the waves and the occasional squawk of a seagull. “I was thinking about...boring stuff.”

Surprised that he continued (because he had definitely dodged the question earlier), Yamaguchi barely missed his next pass, sending the volleyball awkwardly twisting into a jagged arc. Tsukishima sidestepped and returned it back, the thud emitting upon contact with his wrists punctuating the air, still vibrating with his obscure words.

“Are you...going to elaborate upon that?” Yamaguchi tentatively asked. The volleyball was too high, and he staggered back to try and position himself better. It ended up being a half-assed set. He didn’t miss the eyebrow arch from Tsukishima.

“Do you want me to?”

“Are you?”

Yamaguchi was admiring the arc he had sent the ball sailing into when Tsukishima continued again. “Just the relationships between our peers. Karasuno. Volleyball. Dynamics.”

“That’s not really... _ boring _ , per se,” Yamaguchi stammered, stumbling over his words. “In fact, I think the dynamics between people are pretty interesting. It’s not boring…”

He trailed off as he saw Tsukishima’s creased brow. “Sorry, did I overstep?”

“No,” Tsukishima admitted, but his brow didn’t relax as he sent the volleyball soaring back. “I didn’t peg you as the type to think that human interaction is interesting.” Before Yamaguchi could reply, he continued. “It’s just existential thinking, so I don’t think you would enjoy it. I mean, you might be fine with it, but the thought of existing is just pretty heavy, and…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yamaguchi dismissed, his hands slipping against the ball. This time, it ricocheted straight into the water, and he stared at it blankly before realizing the receding wave was quickly rushing it away. He let out a little mix between a gasp and a cough before scrambling through the water. A few seconds later, he burst out from a wave, clutching the volleyball in his hands.

“It was old, anyways. You could have left it,” Tsukishima said.

“A thank you would have been nice,” Yamaguchi chuckled, wringing some drops of water out of his hair. Already the water was lifting off of his skin from the heat. “Alright, wanna chat more?”

“Pass, set, spike exercise,” Tsukishima demanded, but he didn’t directly deny Yamaguchi’s request. They began going through the motions, and this time, Yamaguchi spoke up.

“How do you feel about volleyball?”

This time, the silence was stretched to its snapping point before Tsukishima shrugged, using his palm to spike the ball. Yamaguchi bent his knees to absorb the impact and sent the volleyball skyward, setting to himself and then spiking it back at his companion. 

“...I was scared,” Tsukishima admitted, though reluctantly. “That I’d be let down. That eventually, this passion would burn out. That I’d fall behind. And that when I fall behind, I can’t feel the adrenaline of being on the court with the others. I hate to admit it, but the redhead chibi is a monster at improvement. And here I am…”

“Stop,” Yamaguchi said, so forcefully that Tsukishima forgot to set his own receive. “Everyone has this fear of losing what they love.”

“I’m not exactly writing a love letter to volleyball, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima drawled, scooping up the volleyball. “Let’s take a water break.”

They sprawled underneath the shelter of the tree, panting in the heat. After chugging their water bottles in mutual silence, Yamaguchi figured it was time to continue. He made sure to finish first, so that he was guaranteed the initiative.

“You already had training with Kuroo and Bokuto,” Yamaguchi said. “And it was upon your initiative.”

“Don’t remind me of that. I was probably an asshole then.”

“You were just hard on yourself, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi countered. “You were stopping yourself--”

“--Passion doesn’t equate to skill--”

“--Skill doesn’t equate to worth,” snapped Yamaguchi, and tempered his voice down from a stage of brief anger. “You may not see your improvement, but we all do. It tends to be like that. And your existence isn’t solely focused on just one passion. Volleyball may have connected you with others, but it won’t break you away from others.”

“And how do you know that?” Tsukishima bitterly said, tilting his head to the side so that Yamaguchi couldn’t see his expression. “What if I dropped out? Would I still be talking to Hinata? Would I still be as close?”

“I think the time we spent together is enough to make sure they wouldn’t give you the cold shoulder. Also, you’re an integral part of our team, Tsukki. And I’d still stay by your side, regardless.” He whispered the last part, because Tsukishima would never let him forget about it if he had heard.

“Give me some time,” was all Tsukishima said. And that was the end of it.

The next time Yamaguchi would talk to Tsukishima would be a full two days afterwards, in which the two days they would exchange zero words.


	3. Record 3: Hinata, How are Those Chicken Strips?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karasuno Boys volleyball team goes for fast food and chatting. Kageyama bullies Hinata and Yamaguchi for eating chicken strips with Nishinoya and Tanaka. The chicken strip war begins.
> 
> Also, Yamaguchi also admits he likes soggy fries and they start a conversation about it. This time, Tsukishima’s POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably end up with really slow updates for this, I apologize. Some more heavy stuff at the end of the chapter, though this was intended to be a bit more lighthearted. For now, please enjoy the chapter.

“Long time no see!”

Out of all the people on the team, Tsukishima didn’t think that Hinata would be the first one, let alone the earliest one to arrive at the small fast food junction. Usually he’d spot Hinata racing  _ someone  _ to his destination (90% of the time it was always Kageyama). 

“You’re alone,” Tsukishima stated flatly.

“So?” Hinata sniped, wiggling his fingers. “I got here before you, string bean! Rejoice in my victory!”

_...String bean…? _

Luckily for Tsukishima, the silence that followed was quickly broken with the pleasant chime of the door. Multiple pairs of shoes hit the floor in rapid succession, followed by a rowdy flow of chatter.

“Long time no see!” Yamaguchi excitedly greeted Hinata, then turned his attention to Tsukishima. “I dunno if I can say the same to you, but I didn’t expect you to actually arrive.”

“...Hm,” Tsukishima mused, the remark smacking his shoulder with barely any effect. “Well, consider it a team meeting.”

“He’s so... _ serious _ ,” Tanaka gaped, his arm being yanked by Nishinoya. “Oi, lemme go! We’re here already! You’ll get your sustenance soon!”

“ _ Meat _ ,” Nishinoya chanted, pumping his fist in the air. Tsukishima averted his eyes from the supernova of energy, awkwardly shuffling towards the nearest potted plant as if it would provide sanctuary. Behind Tanaka and Nishinoya came Ennoshita and Kinoshita, the two still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.

“Whoever decided to eat fast food in the morning, you’re a madlad,” Kinoshita griped. “So...who decided?”

“Multiple people, Kinoshita,” Ennoshita chuckled, gingerly pointing to the waitress who was patiently waiting for them to gather themselves. “Let’s split up into a couple of tables, ‘cause I think we got quite a bit here?”

...aaaaand, he ended up at the Hinata table. Kageyama was unusually late, though not by a huge amount, yet Hinata took that as a great opportunity to rub it in Kageyama’s face.

“Tch,” was the first response Kageyama gave the orange haired boy, before jabbing his own finger on Hinata’s receipt. “Out of all the things you could have ordered, of the wide expanse of the menu, you chose... _ chicken strips _ ?”

“Oi, what’s wrong--?! What’s wrong with chicken strips,  _ huh _ ?”

Tsukishima calmly pulled his glasses off and began polishing them with his shirt, studying the white tiles of the floor. He was acutely aware of Yamaguchi trying to stay as silent next to him, drinking in the scene with the air of one whose mind was far away from the present.

“ _ Tell him, Yamaguchi! Tell him that chicken strips are a valid choice of food!” _

Yamaguchi blinked. Tsukishima glanced at the green haired boy, a surge of undecipherable emotion rolling in his stomach as they both locked eyes. Yamaguchi shifted, turning his head purposefully so that he looked at Kageyama dead straight in the eyes.

“Chicken strips are superior to whatever you ordered.”

“Woah, he did it!” Hinata shouted, eliciting a smack on the shoulder by Kageyama.

“Don’t be so loud, idiot!”

“Yamaguchi was so cool, though!”

“Here’s your food,” the waitress said, placing down multiple platters. It was clear she was unphased by the antics their table was performing. Tsukishima cast a glance at the other table, wondering if they were as crazy as the table he was sitting at. They were civilized, not quiet but not horribly loud.

Tsukishima pushed the plates to their respective people, eyeing the two empty seats where Nishinoya and Tanaka were to occupy. They both went to the restroom to wash their hands. Tsukishima seriously figured that when they came, the tornado that was their table would just increase in destruction.

Though, today he learned something new. Food silenced the tornado. Albeit temporarily, it still ceased their yelling. Hinata focused all his energy on consuming his food, crunching with a vigor like he was eating for his life. Kageyama took a long sip from his water, eyeing the chicken strips with distaste over the rim of the glass. 

Tsukishima was on his fries when Kageyama simpered, “how’s your chicken strips, Hinata?”

It took .05 of a second for Hinata to flinch, 1 second to spin his head around, and another for his eyes to dilate in horror. “Screw your chicken strips! Let me eat in peace!” Tanaka crowed, slapping his hand against the table at Hinata’s outburst, apparently finding the situation hilarious. Next to Tsukishima, Yamaguchi tensed. 

“...soggy fries,” Tsukishima reluctantly said, while Nishinoya, Tanaka, Hinata, and Kageyama began another war over chicken strips.

Yamaguchi didn’t cease his chewing until an awkward three seconds later. “Sorry, what?”

“You seem to enjoy the soggier fries,” Tsukishima replied. He wasn’t really familiar with initiating. In retrospect, actually, Yamaguchi was usually the one to initiate conversation. The silence they had between them for the past couple of days was also a bit of a barrier. However, when he saw Yamaguchi’s half-grin, he knew they were behind the tension.

“Why, are you a soggy fries fan as well?” Yamaguchi chortled, waving a fry between his fingers. “Don’t tell me you’re against chicken strips as well.”

“I just feel like the fried chicken outside of this diner is superior,” Tsukishima admitted, amending with: “Though I don’t have much of a like or dislike towards these...American chicken strips.”

“Suuuuure,” Yamaguchi said, popping the fry in his mouth. “In this war about chicken strips, you will have to choose a side.”

“I’ll make my own side, then,” Tsukishima dryly said, flicking his fingers to rid them of the coating of salt. “The neutral side.”

“Wow, that’s--”

“--being smart, Yamaguchi. If you can’t change the odds of the game, just tweak it a little.”

He realized the rest of the table had fallen quieter--granted, not silent, but considerably less loud. Hinata was wiping his fingers on a napkin, while Kageyama looked absolutely crushed, slumped against the seat.

“What happened here?” Tsukishima drawled, his question obviously directed at Kageyama’s state. It was a quick question, one without much thought, but he had an inkling that the other four had begun catching on Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s conversation and would definitely try and pry themselves in.

“Tanaka betrayed him,” Nishinoya dramatically said, stretching his arms skyward. “In the end, it went from a 2v2 to a 3v1. Chicken strips are obviously superior, then.”

“Good to hear,” Tsukishima primly said, and wondered if the diner’s atmosphere was getting into his brain. 

-

That night, he lay in bed, thinking about nothing and everything. At first, the thoughts of chicken strips fluttered in his head. Then, it evolved to the conversation he had with Yamaguchi. He was frustrated at himself.  _ How did a simple conversation of fries diffuse the tension? Was he pretending? Are we still tense with each other?  _

He realized he was jealous of the fries. The fact that such a mundane object could break the ice between them was unspeakable, ridiculous, unfathomable. 

Well...it still worked, in the end.

He wondered if Yamaguchi was ever tired of initiating conversation. Was the fries conversation useless? It was a spur of the moment thing. His blunt words came back to himself from the time before they met at the diner.  _ Give me some time.  _ A coward. He was running away with a vague topic. Tsukishima was always asking something from Yamaguchi, and he never gave anything in return.

_ Damn,  _ he was frustrated.

His phone vibrated, and he cast a glance at it from his bed. Speak of the Devil. Yamaguchi had sent him an email.


End file.
